


Cockslut (Or, Alex Is Really Bad With Titles)

by fvnwithgvns



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: BDSM, Bottom Ashton Irwin, Dirty Talk, Dom Calum Hood, Dom/sub, Heavy BDSM, Humiliation, M/M, Smut, Spanking, Sub Ashton, Top Calum, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-01
Updated: 2018-02-01
Packaged: 2019-03-12 03:05:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13538349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fvnwithgvns/pseuds/fvnwithgvns
Summary: This is just. Filthy. I recently got back into 5sos for the first time since 2014, and this is what I do.





	Cockslut (Or, Alex Is Really Bad With Titles)

The cuffs are binding him to the bed, tight around his wrists. He watches as Calum rummages around in their toy drawer, pulling out a leather whip. He walks over to where Ashton is cuffed to the bed, the angry look still on his face.

 

“You’re getting 30 and the only way I’ll stop is if you use your safeword. Understand?”

 

Ashton nods.

 

Calum slaps him across the cheek, grabbing his face and pulling up so Ashton is looking him in the eyes. “Words, slut. I said, do you understand?”

 

Tears threaten to leak from the corners of Ashton’s eyes. “Yes, sir.” He knows he deserved the slap. He deserves everything that’s coming to him. He’s been bad, and he knows it.

 

“Good. Now, you’ll thank me after every one and say absolutely nothing else.”

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

Calum lands the first strike across Ashton’s back. He hisses at the pain. “Thank you, sir.”

 

By the time Calum has struck him ten times, Ashton is sobbing, straining against the restraints holding him down. He’s so deep in subspace all he can think is that he deserves this punishment for disobeying Calum. He disobeyed his master, and he’s furious at himself for it.

 

Calum strikes across Ashton’s back, thighs, chest, and ass. He never knows where the next strike will be, and that only makes it better. “You love this, don’t you, you little pain slut? You love being punished. You’re a fucking whore, and nothing else.” The words are filthy and degrading and go directing to Ashton’s achingly hard cock.

 

Calum hits across Ashton’s hips, dangerously close to his dick. He whines and bucks up at the sensation, muttering his thanks to his master.

 

The next strike is harder than any of the previous, directly across Ashton’s back. “What was that,” _strike_ “whore?” _strike_ “I didn’t hear you.”

 

“I said thank you, sir!” Ashton practically shouts, choking back a sob.

 

“That’s right. You take everything I give you like the little slut you are.” Calum punctuates his sentence with another strike.

 

‘Thank you sir, that’s right, I’m your whore, I’m your little slut!” Ashton sobs, from pleasure and pain and too much sensation overall.

 

“That’s damn right you are. You belong to me, understand? You’re _mine._ ” Calum growls possessively.

 

The rest of the whip’s strikes come in a pain-filled blur. “On your knees. Beg for my cock. We both know you’re a fucking cockslut.”

 

Ashton climbs off the bed, pain shooting through his body with every movement. He kneels before Calum. “Please, sir, I need your cock, I want to please you so bad, let me be good for you, let me make you feel good, please sir, it’s what I’m good for, all I’m good for, I’m just a fucktoy for you to use.” When Ashton begs, he does it right, looking up at Calum through heavy-lidded eyes, tears still streaking down his cheeks.

 

“Mm. Good little slut.” Calum unbuckles his belt and pulls off his jeans and boxers, his dick springing free, hard and flushed against his stomach. “Please me, then, if that’s what you claim to want so badly.”

 

Ashton wastes no time leaning in, kitten licking the head before swallowing Calum’s dick. He moans around it, sending vibrations down the darker boy’s spine. He runs his tongue over the underside, up his shaft to swirl it over the head. He takes Calum all the way down his throat, swallowing around him and eliciting a moan from him. Calum’s hand rakes roughly through Ashton’s hair, stopping to tug on the long blond curls.

 

Ashton hollows his cheeks and bobs his head, sucking as hard as he possibly can. He grazes his teeth over the sensitive head, earning another moan. He reaches up to play with his master’s balls, doing everything possible to please.

 

“Stop.” Calum commands, sending a feeling of guilt down to Ashton’s stomach. Was he doing something wrong?

 

“On your stomach, ass in the air,” Calum commands. “You don’t deserve it, but I’m feeling generous today. I’m going to fuck you.”

 

Ashton climbs on the bed as fast as he can, shoving his face into the duvet, arching his back and presenting his ass to his master.

 

“You know what?” Calum says, climbing on the bed behind Ashton and grabbing a bottle of lube, “I don’t think you need prep. Whores like you are ready to take cock any time, isn’t that right?”

 

“Yes, sir.” Ashton hopes he’ll use enough lube to where it won’t be painful to sit for days to come. Of course, that’s basically a pipe dream at this point. He deserves pain. He deserves punishment.

 

Calum slicks himself up and begins to fuck roughly into Ashton, leaning down to suck marks into the smaller boy’s neck. Ashton whines, pushing himself back on Calum’s cock.

 

“Look at you, such a desperate, needy cockslut. Just begging to be fucked, pushing back on me like that. That’s what you need, you filthy fucking whore. To be filled up by cock at all times.”

 

“Yes, sir, please, I need you inside me,” Ashton sobs, circling his hips. “Need to make you feel good.”

 

Calum begins to thrust harder, slamming into Ashton’s prostate nearly every time. He moans, the overstimulation making him shake. He shoves his face into the bed, muffling his cries. Calum grabs his hair and puts a hand on his back, using it as leverage to fuck him deeper and harder. Ashton moans into the comforter. He needs to cum, and he needs to cum _soon._

 

“You’re a filthy fucking whore, no better than a hooker on the street, probably worse. You’d take any cock you can get, won’t you? Disgusting. Good thing I don’t have to look at your face. You’re just a hole for me to fuck. Nothing else. Worthless,” Calum spits out, tugging harder on Ashton’s hair. Ashton moans, the words humiliating but so _so_ hot.

 

Calum’s thrusts become more erratic and it’s clear to Ashton that he’s close. He tenses, squeezing around him. His master moans above him, sending a hand to Ashton’s throat and choking him as he cums inside him.

 

“Can I cum, please, sir?” Ashton asks, desperate and wanton.

 

“Tell you what,” Calum says, an almost evil gin spreading across his face. “I’m going to let you cum, but you aren’t getting any pleasure out of it.”

 

“Sir?” Ashton asks, confused.

 

“It’s called milking. Basically, you get the release without the feeling. And I don’t really think you deserve pleasure.”

 

Ashton whines but doesn’t disagree. He knows better than that. Calum gets to work, roughly shoving two fingers inside Ashton and going straight for his prostate, stroking it. His other hand stokes Ashton slowly, keeping a tight grip on the base.

 

Ashton’s thighs begin to shake, his hips twitching up. He feels the familiar feeling building in between his hips and before he knows it he’s spurting over his chest and Calum’s hand, crying out. What’s different is the feeling that’s missing. There’s no relief, no pleasure, and Ashton hates it.

 

“Whores don’t deserve to cum, do they? You’re only good for being fucked. That doesn’t include you getting off.” Calum says as Ashton whines.

 

“N-no, sir.”

 

Calum continues to milk him through his orgasm, sending dull sparks through Ashton’s spine. Next thing he knows there’s tears rolling down his cheeks again. The drop has begun, and he honestly feels like shit. His whole body is on fire, and Calum’s insults are continuously running through his head. _Whore. Slut. Worthless._ He knows his boyfriend doesn’t mean it, that it’s just part of the scene, but the words bury themselves deep in his skin, beneath his exterior, where he hides all his insecurities.

 

Calum’s face immediately turns to one of concern. “Babyboy, what do you need right now?” He asks, his tone drastically different. “Say the word and I’ll do it.”

 

Ashton shakes his head. He can’t speak; his head is too loud again.

 

Luckily, Calum understands. He runs a soothing hand through Ashton’s hair, wiping tears off his cheeks. He goes to unfasten the handcuffs, rubbing Ashton’s raw wrists. “I got you, baby, you’re okay, I’m here, I love you so much, you did so good,” he says, his voice soft. “I love you, Ash, my perfect boy, I love you so much.”

 

Ashton’s head gets a little quieter.

 

“Let’s run you a bath, yeah? Get you cleaned up.” Calum picks Ashton up, bridal-style, and carries him to the bathroom. He sets him down gently in the bathtub, turning the water on and adding Ashton’s favorite bubble bath. He digs in the medicine cabinet, pulling out a bottle of Advil and handing Ashton a pill. Ashton takes it dry, wincing as he swallows. Calum laughs and heads over to kneel by the side of the bathtub.

 

“You know I love you, right Ash? I love you so fucking much.”

 

“I know. I love you to.” Ashton murmurs, his voice sleepy.

 

“You did so good, babyboy. You were so good for me. You’re so beautiful, you know that? So goddamn beautiful.”

 

Calum continues to praise Ashton as he shampoos his hair and wipes down his body. The blond-haired boy feels his eyes growing heavy, leaning into Calum’s touch. Calum picks him out of the bath, drying him off and carrying him to the bedroom. The playroom’s a mess, but he’ll deal with that once Ashton is asleep.

 

Calum peppers Ashton’s face with kisses, petting his hair as the older boy falls asleep.

 

Ashton’s head has finally shut up. He’s safe and warm and loved, next to his boyfriend, being told he’s loved. Everything is okay.


End file.
